


destiny? i don't know her

by DictionaryWrites



Series: Brought To Justice [7]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Age Swap, Kissing, M/M, Multiverse, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 23:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14943009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: The Ancient-Loki arrives on Sakaar, and En Dwi Gast is dragged head over heels.





	destiny? i don't know her

“You,” En Dwi Gast says. “I know you.”

“Do you?” Loki asks, and he turns his head, slowly. Sakaar is still a new planet, still developing piece by piece. A city has sprouted from the ground where once there was naught but rock and trash, and great waters cover the planet – soon, it will be as Loki has seen it a million times, triumphant and ridiculous.

“ _Oh_ ,” En Dwi Gast says, hesitating. He looks Loki up and down, taking in the many rings upon his fingers, and the pendants around his neck; he examines the silver in Loki’s hair and the braid of Thor’s hair braided into his own; he takes in the two rings through the left side of Loki’s nostril, and the lines on his face. “Okay. I _don’t_ know you.” He grins, like he does in a thousand continuities – En Dwi likes to be surprised, likes to see things he hasn’t seen before, and while he dips his toes into other universes, Loki has felt them start and end, over and over, over and over. “Gee, _golly_ , you… Ha, you’ve got some, uh, some pretty powerful energy there.”

“Yes,” Loki agrees. “Won’t you kiss me? I’ll share some, if you like.” En Dwi frowns, furrowing his lovely brow and wrinkling his lovely nose, and Loki smiles, fondly. “I’ve always loved you in blue,” he murmurs. “That golden skin, though… It suits you very well.”

“Ah,” En Dwi says, tapping the side of his prominent nose. “I don’t, uh, I don’t know _you_ … But you know me.”

“Yes,” Loki says, stepping forward. “A billion times, yes.” En Dwi reaches out to touch him, ostensibly to play with one of the necklaces Loki wears, but Loki catches his hand and pulls him closer. Stumbling, En Dwi is brought chest-to-chest with him, and he delights in the heady gasp from the Elder’s mouth as Loki entwines their right hands, setting his hand on En Dwi’s left shoulder and allowing his hand to settle on Loki’s waist – and then lower, to grab at his backside.

Some things, across the multiverse, just never change.

“Your name is En Dwi Gast,” Loki whispers against his lips, and the two of them waltz to music that does not play: they dance to the very hum of the universe itself, a slow two-step this way and that, and En Dwi’s golden eyes are bright and full to the _brim_ with excitement, with delight. “You watched your planet crumble into the dust that became the Saresi Nebula eight billion years ago, and you still visit its capital planet sometimes, just to see the dust catch gold on the air during sundown.” The excitement becomes softer, more _intimate_ : here is the great Grandmaster, undone by the barest hint of nostalgia. But it is proof, _proof_ , that in some universes, the Grandmaster sees Loki as his equal, as somebody to _trust_ , and he sees En Dwi’s lips quirk into the smallest, dreamy smile.

“You can, uh, really _dance_ , huh?”

“Kiss me,” Loki whispers, and En Dwi does. Loki lets himself pour warm over En Dwi’s tongue, lets their lips drag over each other’s and their tongues clash, lets the Grandmaster surge into his mouth as power crackles between their mouths, lets himself give En Dwi a _shock_ — En Dwi Gast is dazed and clinging to Loki like he is the only port in a storm En Dwi invited, and En Dwi laughs, dipping his head to Loki’s neck and dragging his tongue _hot_ over the white flesh.

“Oh, _you_ , sweet-pea… I’m keeping _you_.”

“Good,” Loki whispers, and with a burst of easy seiðr, music begins to play.

It isn’t the same. In a hundred thousand universes, Loki has stood just like this, chest to chest with _an_ En Dwi Gast, his hands entwined with _a_ Grandmaster’s; in a hundred thousand more, Loki has slaughtered the man where he stood, and cradled him as he died; in a million further, Loki has never met him.

Those are the worst ones.

When you have grown as Loki has, so powerful that physical pain is but a distant memory, it is easy to be fond of a monster like En Dwi Gast. It is easy to love his cruel moods, and his sense of appearances, and his obscenity. It is easy to love anything, when you have lived long enough. 

“For the sake of full disclosure,” Loki murmurs, “I’ve killed you many times.”

“How many times have you fucked me?” En Dwi replies, his eyes glittering. Loki laughs against his mouth, and he draws his hand up from the warm shoulder to the incandescently hot cheek.

“Too many to count,” Loki answers, and he lets En Dwi kiss him, lets En Dwi’s timeless energy bite and claw into his throat—

And for now, Loki the Wanderer, he will take his place on Sakaar. _For now_.

Until destiny…

Well. Thoughts of destiny can wait until morning, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/ask). Requests always open.


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